Allhallow's Eve: (Richard Laymon Horror Classic) (18 page)

‘You got it!’ Seana cried.

‘Into the tub, quick!’

Grabbing the weapon, he rushed to Seana. He clutched her arm. The match went out. He pulled her toward the tub. They crawled over its side.

‘Lie down,’ he whispered.

‘But …’

‘He’s got a gun.’

‘You sure?’

‘
Yes
.’

He pressed her to the bottom of the tub, and crouched at her head, hatchet ready. His heart thudded so hard he thought he might vomit. He took deep breaths.

They waited.

‘Maybe he doesn’t have bullets,’ Seana whispered.

‘I’m not going out there to find out.’

‘What’ll we do?’

‘Wait.’

Driving away from the Oakhurst Cemetery, Sam recalled Brandner’s suggestion: ‘If I were looking for the Horners’ bodies … I’d take a look in the Sherwood house.’

It seemed like a good idea.

He might, at least, make a quick tour of its outside – check the doors, see if anything seemed out of place. But as he approached the house, he saw the Morley Realty car parked in front. Not much point looking around, he decided, if Glendon’s in the house. The real estate man would be certain to report anything he found amiss.

So Sam didn’t stop.

Nor did he stop when he noticed, again, that Clara’s newspaper still remained on her lawn.

He’d spent a long time at the cemetery. After a thorough search of the area near the north fence, he and Brandner made a quick inspection of the rest of the grounds. Along the way, he questioned Benny, the grounds keeper, and learned nothing of importance. The entire procedure had taken nearly two hours; if he met another delay, he might as well forget about Dendron and simply wait for Thelma to return.

He didn’t want to wait.

He wanted to make the trip on the chance of catching Thelma at her mother’s house. He wanted to make it, even if he failed to meet her.

He was very nervous.

I’m not going to stop, he thought. No reason to be nervous, because I’m not going to stop. When I get to the Sleepy Hollow Inn, I’ll just keep driving. I’ve got a job to do.

What about afterwards?

No!

Wouldn’t hurt to stop and thank Melodie for the help. If it weren’t for her call, you wouldn’t have the first idea where to find Thelma.

I’ll thank her by phone.

I can’t see her again. Can’t.

As the motel came into view, Sam’s heart hammered so hard and fast he felt dizzy. He scanned the area, but didn’t see her. He stared at the office windows. He turned his head, looking for as long as possible before he left the motel behind.

He hadn’t so much as glimpsed her. The loss made him ache inside, like a child whose birthday was forgotten.

I can always stop on the way back, he told himself.

But I won’t.

I’d better not.

Couldn’t hurt to thank her, though.

Yes it could. It could hurt a lot.

The house at 354 Tenth Street in Dendron looked small and well-kept. A picket fence enclosed its neatly
trimmed lawn. A Honda Civic was parked in its driveway.

Sam stopped at the curb and climbed out. He hurried toward the front door, eager to conclude the hunt that had occupied so much of his time for the past two days. He didn’t expect resistance. He expected her to play it cool, even if she were responsible for Dexter’s murder. As he reached the door, however, doubts crept in. Should he notify the local police? He’d have to phone them, anyway, if it came down to an arrest.

That could wait.

For all he knew, Thelma had already returned to Ashburg.

He stood off to the side, as a precaution, and pressed the doorbell. He heard it ring. His hand lowered to his revolver.

The door opened and a petite, white-haired woman looked out at him. ‘Yes?’ she asked.

‘Is Thelma here?’

‘Why, yes she is. You must be Mr Wyatt.’

He nodded.

‘Marjorie called. She told us to expect you, but we thought you’d be here ages ago.’

‘I had some other business,’ he said, wishing now that he hadn’t delayed so long.

‘Won’t you come in?’

He followed her into the living room. Thelma, sitting in a rocker, watched him over the rim of a cocktail glass. Her half-shut eyes had the same lazy insolence Sam knew from her photo. She looked much older, though: thin, with a sallow complexion and harsh lines.

‘I wasn’t so hard to find, was I?’ She smirked and took a drink. ‘Mother, how about disappearing for a bit?’

‘Would Mr Wyatt care for a drink?’ asked the older woman.

‘No he wouldn’t,’ Thelma answered.

‘There’s no call to be rude, darling.’

‘No call to be polite. This man wants to bust me for killing Dexter.’

‘I’m not here to bust you,’ Sam said.

‘I’ll believe that when I see it.’

‘I just want to …’

‘I know, ask a few questions. Good-
bye
Mother.’

Looking peeved, the old woman scurried from the room.

‘Okay,’ said Thelma, ‘what do you want to know?’

‘Let’s start at the beginning.’

‘How about getting it over with? You’ve already got my story from Elmer and Marjorie and Ticia and God-only-knows who else.’

‘I’d like to hear it from you.’

She sighed. ‘Elmer’s right about you. Okay. I get into town Tuesday afternoon, check in at my sister’s house. Have supper with them, then make my merry way to the Sunset Lounge where I meet my old friend Elmer. We hoist a few, then take off in his Volvo, spread his blanket on the eighth hole of the golf course and go humpy-humpy. Okay? The automatic sprinklers go on, and we get drenched. Never fuck on a golf course.

‘Elmer takes me back to Marjorie’s, and I hit the sack. Wednesday, I meet Elmer for lunch. He takes me
shopping, so I can pick up a few items for Marjorie. I eat supper with the family, then take off with Ticia for the Sunset. We meet Elmer there, and I meet Joe.’

‘Joe who?’

‘Joe Schmow, who the hell knows? So me and Joe go off together for a merry time.’

‘When?’

She smirked. ‘Eleven or twelve. I didn’t clock out. Who knows?’

‘Do you know where you went?’

‘Not to the golf course, you can bet.’

‘Where?’

‘Here’s the good part, the part you’ve been waiting for. You figure I went over to Dexter’s place and chopped him up, right?’

‘Did you?’

‘Hate to disappoint you.’

‘Where did you go?’

‘Stiff City. Oakhurst Cemetery.’ She swirled her ice cubes, and took a drink. ‘You haven’t lived till you’ve gone humpy-humpy in the graves. It adds a certain thrill. Makes it terribly exciting, like screwing in public without the scandal.’

‘How long were you there?’ Sam asked.

‘Oh, an hour.’

‘Nobody can prove you were there.’

‘Only Joe. I’m sure, if it’s necessary, we can dig him up.’

‘You’d better hope so.’

She shook her head, smiling with one side of her face. ‘I don’t imagine it’ll be necessary.’

‘Why not?’

‘Oh, I saw something that will interest you.’ She took another drink. ‘Guess what I saw.’

‘Why don’t you just tell me?’

‘I’d have told you, long ago, if you hadn’t insisted on my repeating all that useless trivia.’

‘What did you see at the cemetery?’

‘Not a what, but a who.’

‘Okay.’

‘I saw Dexter.’ She licked her lips and took another drink. ‘It was only by the purest luck that I happened to see him. If I’d been under Joe, at the time … Most men prefer it that way, do you?’

Sam didn’t answer.

Thelma chuckled. ‘They like to feel they’re controlling the action, get insecure if the gal’s on top. At any rate, Joe isn’t that way. So I was merrily riding him along, and I happened to be facing that creepy old house where all those people got murdered – the Sherman house?’

‘Sherwood.’

‘At any rate, I happened to be looking that way and saw Dexter go in the back door.’

‘He
entered
the Sherwood house?’

‘That’s what I said. He went in, and I didn’t see him come out.’

‘Are you sure it was Dex?’

‘I couldn’t see his face, obviously. But he was Dexter’s size, and wearing a police uniform and Stetson just like Dexter’s. Oh, it was him all right.’

‘Why didn’t you notify someone?’

‘Why should I? His business is no business of mine.
Especially now.’ She sucked an ice cube into her mouth. It muffled her voice as she said, ‘God rest his soul.’

‘Hey jack-off!’

Bill ignored Nate’s voice, and finished stuffing his books into his overflowing locker. He let go. As the books started to avalanche, he slammed the metal door. He turned to his friend. ‘Doons catch you yet?’

‘Doons couldn’t catch shit if he tripped over it.’

‘Where’d you hide?’

‘The girls’ locker room.’

‘Sure.’

‘I tell you, my dick’s been hard so long I’m starting to take it for granite.’

Bill shook his head. ‘You must’ve spent all afternoon thinking up that one.’

‘Nah. I’m a natural wit.’

They walked up the crowded hallway, Bill watching as Nate collided with students in his way. Girls and smaller boys only. When boys larger than Nate drew near, he sidestepped out of range.

Bill followed him across the hall, curious until he saw a large-bosomed blonde ahead. Nate altered course and walked into her.

‘Watch it,’ she snapped.

‘I think you busted my arm!’

‘Bull-twinkie,’ she said.

Nate turned to Bill. ‘Busted my arm. Get it? Busted?’

‘Very funny.’

‘What’re you, still pissed off about your sweetie Beth? Or is it Miss Bennett? Look, it’s time we get on the ball with Bennett, you know what I mean? It’s now or never, do or die, shit or get off the commode. Hey hey, look who’s here.’

Bill saw Eric Prince walking up the hall.

‘Hey dork-face,’ Nate called.

Eric saw him, and stopped.

‘Hey dingle-berry, come here.’

Eric took a single step forward. Several students pushed past him.

Nate stopped in front of him. ‘Trick or treat,’ he said.

‘I haven’t got …’

‘How much
have
you got?’

Eric shrugged.

‘Well check, turd-head.’

He pushed a bandaged hand into a front pocket of his trousers, and brought out a comb and handkerchief.

‘Try the other pocket.’

Wincing, he shifted a load of books to his left hand.

‘What’s the matter with your hand?’ Nate asked.

‘I cut it,’ Eric said, reaching into a pocket.

‘Sure. I bet you wore a hole in it jacking off.’

Eric’s right hand appeared. He held it out to Nate, and opened it. ‘This is all I’ve got,’ he said.

Bill glanced at the nickels and pennies.

‘That’s all?’ Nate asked.

‘Yeah.’

‘How’m I supposed to exist on such a pittance? Answer me that.’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Keep it,’ Nate said, and slapped his hand up. The change flew, several coins striking a nearby girl in the face.

‘Come on, Bill.’

As they walked away, Bill looked back. Eric was still standing where they’d left him, surrounded by talking, shoving, laughing students who passed him like a stream swirling around a rock. For a moment, Bill felt a little sorry for the kid. Then he saw a corner of Eric’s mouth twist into a sneer. A chill prickled the back of his neck, and he turned away.

‘Okay, so here’s my plan for Bennett.’

‘I won’t let you flatten her tires,’ Bill said. They went outside, and down the concrete stairs. ‘Why don’t we just forget about her?’

‘Hey, you haven’t heard my new plan, yet. What we do, we get in my car and wait by the faculty parking lot. When she comes out, we follow her home. How’s that sound?’

‘I don’t know,’ Bill said.

‘We’ll hang back – she’ll never be the wiser.’

‘What’ll we do when we get there?’

‘What do you want to do?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Then that’s what we’ll do.’

‘Then why go at all?’

‘So we’ll know where she lives, dildo.’